


Femme Fatale

by SincerelyMLG



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Multi, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bucky Barnes, Soft Bucky, Song Lyrics, Suggestive Themes, in universe violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23556913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SincerelyMLG/pseuds/SincerelyMLG
Summary: She has always known him as the shadow in her peripheral, watching her for an opportunity, watching her back. In and out of consciousness, in and out of the cold waves of memories, The Asset and his shadow.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Kudos: 6





	1. Rise

The familiar blue eyes met her steel, blank stare.

“It’s time to go. You kept your promise, now help me keep mine.” 

You stumbled out of the cell you’d been kept in. The lock easily broken by a glare of sunlight and arms around your waist. Your feet stuck to the red floor as you were dragged one agonizing step after another toward the blinding light the figure came out of.

Could this be Heaven’s light and this man an angel?

It seemed unlikely. With the countless sins you committed this would be the first taunt that waited at Hell’s throne. 

“C’mon doll. Stay with me.”

You looked up, squinting through the light, finding blue eyes. Demons didn’t have eyes that fair did they?

You pitched forward, your blood staining the white that caught you. Striking cold jolted your sense into focus. 

You stood. Straight, fighting the urge to shiver and cover yourself. “Ready to comply.”

The angel came to stand in front of you. He studied you, sadness in his eyes. Why was he sad? What was the target?

“At ease,” he said, not expecting you to move. He circled you, seeming to examine you. The blood dripped down your clenched fist. The stark contrast in temperatures almost made you shiver again, almost. 

“This is an extraction mission. Target classified” He pulled few mismatched clothes out of the small duffel at his side. “Put these on.”

You took the black sweater and pants, obedient to the end. They covered your small, malnourished frame hanging off you to make you look sicker than you already were. You ignored the pangs in your abdomen for something not liquid and force-fed to you. Boots were thrown at you and you quickly covered your feet, the immediate warmth flooding your system. 

The man took your arm, tearing some excess fabric from your hem and wrapping your arm in an attempt to stop the bleeding. 

Watching him tightly wrap your wrist up brought ghosts from beneath the untouched snow. You squinted, confused at the deep brown eyes that met yours with concern. 

_Careful with that thing, you might cut someone’s finger off._

You shook your head, willing the ghost away. Willing the pang in your heart away. 

“On the move, Soldier.”

You followed the fair eyed angel. Surrounded by the blinding snow, he now looked like a shadow now, more than an angel. The edge of the dense forest neared with every painful, heavy step. As the evergreen bristles neared, so did the blackened edges in your peripheral. Deep breaths and gritted teeth did nothing to stop it. It crept forward, your vision becoming a pinprick. 

_It’s alright darling. It’s alright._

The words echoed in your head as you blacked out, falling back onto the carpet of your home, screams echoing in your ears. 

_You screamed, swinging the knife in your hand. You frantically looked around the kitchen, clearing it. Checked the next rooms, the dining room, the living room. All seemed normal. Then the breeze hit your arms, the cool summer breeze pricking at your arms._

_You surveyed the window sill, scuff marks that weren’t there before seemed to be leading into your home._

_They were here again. Those people that followed you. Those men that watched you at the supermarket, at the school, and now, it seemed, in your own home._

_A hand touched your arm, holding tight. You screamed again, swinging the kitchen knife toward the body that stood near you._

_You stopped, just short of sheathing the knife into your husband._

_He chuckled nervously, “careful with that thing, darling, you might cut someone’s finger off. Or worse.”_

_You dropped the knife, flinging your arms around him. “James,” you sobbed. “I-I’m sorry. I just heard something and it scared me half to death.”_

_Your husband held you close, his hands soothing the tension in your back. “Are you seeing them again? Him again?”_

_You pulled back, feeling nauseous. “I’m not imagining them. There’s a group of them. They just watch me.”_

_“I believe that you think you see them. Maybe you need to see some-”_

_“I’m not crazy James!” you took a deep breath, not wanting to have this argument again. “I have to go. Baby girl gets out of school soon.”_

_He sighed, “Would you like me to come with you?”_

_“No. No, thank you.”_

_You grabbed your bag and the keys to the car. With a glance over your shoulder at your husband and the fear in his deep eyes, you almost regretted the cold shoulder._

“Hey, hey, hey,” you opened your eyes, again seeing the angel above you. His eyes were surprisingly soft. “I know you’re exhausted. I know your body is weak and wants to give out, but I also know you can do make it. We’re almost there. You’ve been through so much worse and with so much less to look forward to.”

You blinked, your body aching, shivering, brain playing catch up to your body. You pushed yourself up, fingers nearly blue from the cold. Teeth chattering, you took each slow step forward, pushing through the darkness that again wanted to take over. His words echoed around you. They bounced off the trees, echoed deep in the mountain’s valley, rang in your ears, led your footsteps to keep from stumbling; You been through so much worse. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what worse could mean. The man you’d seen, _James_ , was he the worse? The people that seemed to be following the woman in your head? Him?

Your never-ending questions seemed to add up with every step you took.

The wind whipped around you, pushing and pulling you in the directions of your mind. A child’s laugh echoed from behind you, causing another pang in your chest. But still, you pressed on. 

A child’s cry stopped you in your tracks. At this point, too numb to anything but moving forward and the ghosts that seemed to haunt you. This was the first cry you’d heard, and you turned. An instinct you didn’t know you’d had kicked in. 

You were met with the empty footsteps you had left. No brown-eyed little girl carrying a beloved toy.

Confused you took a step back. And tripped over your own feet. 

You landed with a grunt.

You were ready to lay down, become part of the forest floor. With the state that you were in, it wouldn’t take long. 

An engine stirred you from your thoughts. You slowly turned and saw the small aircraft preparing for take-off. Snow rose with you as if the propellers lifted you up and into its body. 

“Target acquired.”

“Who is the target?”

The angel strapped you into the co-pilot seat next to him, fitting you with a headset and checking the various gauges. 

He didn’t respond, making you think you’d stepped out of line, asked the wrong question, asked too many questions. 

The craft rose into the blue skies and you started to drift off, just before you let the darkness overtake you, a single word floated into your ears.

Soft and broken, _you_.


	2. The Asset

“I brought coffee.” Steve walked into the kitchen, instantly freezing at the sight the met him. He placed the to-go carrier on the counter right in front of him. Slowly backing out the door he’d just entered.

You didn’t dare break eye-contact with the man in front of you. The tension in your body, mirrored in his.

Bucky softly said your name, hoping to distract you. “Put the knife down,” he whispered, trying to break you down.

Without breaking eye contact with you still, he relaxed. Still watching you carefully, but not immediately on the defensive. Your brow wrinkled, confused why he would leave himself so vulnerable.

That was it, his opening. “What do you need from me?”

You were confused by his question. What did you need? It didn’t matter what you needed. He was there to stop you. The only thing that kept you from the cold again and again and again. The words echoing in your mind: _you’re good enough_. Usually spat in your direction.

You knew your place, second behind him, watching his back, not worrying too much about your own. _The Asset_. You were good enough. Superior to all the others, but still not good enough in their eyes, your keepers.

Bucky watched the war behind your eyes, watched your grip on the knife loosen. He took a tentative step forward quickly disarming you.

You blinked several times. Confused with your surroundings; why Bucky was looking at you like that, the now cold coffee on the counter. Your heart broke at the realization. You weren’t fast enough to stop the tears that ran down your cheeks.


	3. Cruel Dreams

It happened again. Memories. Nightmares. The same thing, really.

The abuse that attempted to end the tears then starts the flood now. The ghosts of punches sting your abdomen and leave you gasping for air, hyperventilating and grasping the sheets below you. The tangled mess around your legs, tightening their hold like the straps that tortured you for years.

They were going to make you forget again. Make you forget the eyes that haunted your every moment. Her screams that rang out as she clutched the stuffed bear she’d been attached to since leaving the hospital.

You fought against the arms that pinned you down. Your screams tearing through your lungs, teeth bared and ready to rip apart anyone standing in your way.

“Hey! Hey, hey,” the indiscernible face in front of you cried. “You’re safe. It’s ok. It’s ok. I promise.”

You blinked as features slowly came into focus. First, blue eyes filled with concern. The bags under them seemed to deepen the wrinkles around his face, making him look at his calendar age. His hair framing his face in chunks as it fell out of his sleepy half-bun.

You took your first deep breath and surveyed your surroundings. A room you weren’t familiar with quite yet but was slowly learning to call home. Blankets that didn’t scratch your legs. Windows that overlooked the many acres of land and the distant city.

Blue eyes still watched you. Unsure what your next move would be; unsure if you would sink your teeth into his skin.

You took a shuddering breath, trying to stop the tears, “I’ve got it from here Barnes. Thank you.”

Bucky slowly released your wrists and easing his weight off your waist. He studied you. Wondering if this was how he looked to Steve when he was torn from his past. He stood to the side of the bed, mourning your past with you. He watched as you sat up, swinging your legs down to the floor, grounding yourself.

You straightened your spine, shutting down all the emotions that screamed to be felt. Bucky released a breath and turned, “If you need anything…”

“I know where you are,” you said, voice empty. Bucky flinched at your words, knowing where you were and the fail-safes that kicked in to shut you down. “Thank you, James.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, walking out of the room. With a glance behind, he softly closed the door.

You tried to listen. Listened for his footsteps, his door behind him, but your blood rushed too loudly to hear anything. You took a sharp breath and that was all it took.

Your resolve broke and the dam broke. You sobbed, mourning your family, your little girl and the life you had built. No sound left your lungs, save the gasps of air that fueled the tears.

You lay on your side after several moments. Body heavy and shaking completely spent. You slowly stood, going to the en-suite bathroom and filling the room with steam and stepping into the burning water, chasing the Soviet chills away.

A quiet sound in your bedroom nearly sent you into a panic. Stepping out of the glass shower, water still running you grabbed the oversized shirt you’d been sleeping in and stepped into the room. Keeping low you swung your legs out, knocking the intruder onto his back.

He managed to flip over, your arms tight around his waist as you tried to pin him again. You yelped when he got his arm around your back, twisting your arm and pushing you into the carpet.

“I can’t do this a second time tonight, doll.”

You stopped trying to fighting when you recognized the voice. “What are you doing here? You’ve reached your ‘help-the-newest-team-member’ quota for the night.”

Bucky stood, helping you up as you shook some feeling back into your arm, “I came to give you this.” He reached under the bed for the items he’d dropped when you’d pounced him. He placed a notebook on the bed beside you two. “I find that even the bad memories are worth writing down. Writing them down seems to let my mind,” he paused, searching for the right words, “move on and let go, I guess.”

You stared at the other item he held, barely hearing what he’d said before. “What…what is that?”

You reached for the little toy in his other hand. He let you take it, no words of protest as you run your hands down the matted fur of the stuffed bear’s arms. The lopsided grin smiling at her. “Where did-” you sniffled, “where did you get this?”

Bucky sat on the bed, watching you again. “I found it.”

Your head snapped to his, eyes widening.

He pat the spot beside him as he moved the notebook further down the bed. You sank down next to him, still gingerly holding the little bear.

“I found it when I went back. After we’d gotten out and separated Steve found me. After a while, I decided it was time to face my past. So I returned, hoping I’d find some clue to you. Knowing how confused you must have been without anyone to help you adjust to civilian life like I had Steve and Tasha. I didn’t find you, but I found this. I grabbed it hoping to return it to you.” He paused, taking a breath and still watching you study the bear. “I heard you call out her name. I was hoping this would help.”

You sniffled, tears falling onto the toy, “She,” you cleared your throat, “she was holding it when…”

Your daughter’s screams filled your ears again, crying for her mother to come back to her.

Bucky reached his hand out, gently placing it on your hand, “I’m so sorry.”

You wiped the tears from your face, “Thank you.” You pulled him into a tender, one-armed hug, the remaining tears falling onto his shirt, still clutching the affectionately named Bear by his previous owner. 


	4. Monikers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know.”

“Barnes?”

The brunette continued idly stirring his coffee, staring at the stain on the marbled counter.

No one knew where the stain came from, it was like it had just appeared one morning. Theories of the faded pink spot ranged anywhere from chemicals that had wandered out of the lab, to someone had drawn on the counter with a sharpie and couldn’t get the rest out. Either way, the color persisted to live on, no matter the amount of elbow grease, cleaner, or complaints Tony made every time he had to look at it. 

It could have been blood. Based on the daily activities of the residents and frequent users of the kitchen space, but based on the still pink color that didn’t-

“James?”

He jumped, coffee spilling over onto his hand, now cold. 

“Sorry,” you said, taking a step back brushing your hands over the front of your dress. It was similar to one you used to own before…

He looked you up and down, taking in the perfectly placed curls, makeup, and dress. A reflection of who you used to be. Clearing his throat he grabbed the closest towel to him and cleaned up the mess.

“It’s ok. You look…”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Out of place?”

“Like your old self.”

You sighed, sinking onto the stool and covering your face with your hands. “I think that’s the problem.”

He took your hand, pulling it from your face. You tensed under his touch until he released his hold on you, still maintaining eye contact. “Why is that a problem?”

Eyes watering, you stared down the man in front of you, “Why is it painful? Why does seeing this person hurt?”

Tears splashed on the counter, gray with mascara. 

“Because it’s not who you are anymore. Life dealt you a winning hand, but changed the game halfway through.”

You nodded, a sob racking through your body. Finally having words put to how you’d been feeling since coming to in the bed that was too soft, the room too warm, and feeling too rested, weeks ago. You reached for the towel, now stained with tears and cold coffee. “Thank you, James.”

He nodded slightly, his eyes light. 

You looked at him quizzically, “what?”

“You’re the only one who calls me that, you know?”

You blanched, “I’m sorry. I can call you something else if you’d-”

He placed his hand on hers, “It’s alright, doll. You are the only one who gets to call me that. I never even really went by that when I was younger. The only time I can truly remember it being use was my mother when she was cross.” He smiled at her.

You smiled, “It’s just habit. James was also my husband’s name.” The fact hung in the air, growing to the size of an elephant as it sucked all the air and space from the room. Both occupants staring at the pink stain as a distraction.

“Captain Rogers requests you in the conference room, Sargent,” an automated Irish lilt broke the silence.

“Thank you, FRIDAY. Inform the Captain I will be there shortly.”

You giggled to yourself the list of monikers growing for the man in front of her. 

He seemed to read her mind as he dumped the rest of the cold coffee in the sink, “please call me Bucky.” He turned on the faucet, rinsing the stained mug.

“Bucket?”

“Yes,” he answered automatically, not completely hearing what you had repeated back. It sounded correct thought.

You giggled again, standing and looking forward to what this newest century had to offer. It was time to embrace it and whatever it would throw your way. “Enjoy your meeting with the Captain.” 

Bucky smiled at you as you left the kitchen, “I usually do, doll.”

“I’m sure he says the same thing, Bucket.”


	5. Little Things

He watched as you laughed at the fragments of conversations that passed in the busy market, your eyes. 

You turned to him, still smiling. “How are you doing?”

Buck grinned at you and the concern in your features. He knew as well as you did that you’d both mapped out every exit, counted every man, woman, child, and had a mental armory of impromptu weapons (as well as the knives attached to each other) growing in your mind. “‘M good.” HYDRA training never leaves, cut out one part of the person they’d patched together and another habit solidified itself within your soul. 

You nod as you turned back to the stalls, gravitating toward the free samples. He chuckled as he followed closely.

You lifted various products to your nose to smell, tasted different jams and honey, spoke to the new vendors in their native tongue, adding the various products to the bag you carried. Bucky offered his other arm when the bag became too heavy for you to carry. “Anything else?”

“I think I’m good. Maybe this time we can get it to taste like your ma’s recipe?”

He chuckled, shifting the bag that was slipping down his shoulder. You watched him struggle, raising a brow in question. He shook his head and lead you toward the car. “We’ve been trying that recipe for months now and you say that every time without getting any closer.”

You bumped your hip against him, causing him to briefly stumble. “Well, maybe this time you can help and teach me.”

“I could, but it’s so cute watching you struggled through it.” You rolled your eyes at his words. “Plus last time I tried to help you threatened me with a wooden spoon.”

“Well, helping and taking over is different.”

“I stand corrected.”

You giggled, climbing into the car as he held the door open.

–

Bucky put the book down on his nightstand. You giggled, his favorite sound, still sound asleep.

It’d been months since you had a nightmare. There were still bad nights, but those nights had become less frequent for both of you. 

He reached over, turning off the light and watched your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks. You mumbled, incoherent noises and syllables filling the small space between you two.

A contented sigh escaped your lips, “Wuv vu.”

He sighed. His heart grew heavy as he placed a small kiss on the top of your head, “I love you too.”

A secret for him and the moon. 

* * *

“I think that’s it.”

“I don’t know why you’re trying so hard. The nights we had boiled potatoes were the good ones.” 

“Well, you’ve tried hard to make this feel like my home, I figured I can only try and return the favor.”

Bucky chuckled, “You think this is the best way to do that? By butchering my ma’s best recipe for the third time.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, “No, I think bringing a sense of normalcy back into our lives is the best way to do that,” you said, turning back to the stove. 

He watched you try not to burn the sugar as it caramelized. Your hair fell into your face, you barely giving it notice except for the quick blow to move it to your peripheral vision. 

Slowly, you poured the sugar into the bowl to let it cool, now chewing on your lip in concentration. After carefully scraping the pan clean, placing it in the fridge, and licking your fingers clean you looked at Bucky, beaming.

He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “Well, nothing is on fire this time so I think you got it.”

“It only caught on fire last time because you kept arguing with me.”

“Why is it always my fault?”

“At least you admit it.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. This is what made it hard. The easy banter and pounding in his chest. He knew what he wanted to say, but couldn’t. The shadows in your eyes and on your heart were still there, haunting you. You missed your family and when you weren’t screaming in your dreams, you still muttered their names, his name. 

How could he be jealous of a memory, long since dead and recently recovered?

“You’re a good friend, Barnes.”

His heart panged, the words on his tongue, fighting to get out. 

_I’m in love with you, and all your little things._


	6. Cold

You had just as much training as him. The Winter Soldier. A similar serum coursing through your veins and the abuse served as a facade of training lived in the memory of every muscle.

Life experience seemed to be the only leg…well metal arm up on you.

You loved that man, but you were ready to prove yourself to the people you could eventually call friends. Though both facts were hard to admit to either party.

No arguments were made when Steve and Tony said Bucky would be coming with you. Just a simple nod and quick glance at the man in question.

The mission: simple. Get in, take out the sleeper, and come home for a long weekend by the pool with the current best seller you were reading.

“Landing in 10, miss.”

“Thank you FRIDAY.”

You stood and walked over to the sleeping soldier. “Bucky?” You placed your hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. He muttered nonsense before rolling over on the tiny couch.

You sighed, this was the most sleep he’d gotten all week. Prep for the mission had taken its toll on him. “Buck?”

Still, with no response and the tiny airport coming into view you winced at your decision.

“What the hell was that?”

You pulled your hands out from under his shirt, “we’ve landed.”

“I’ve gathered that. What woke me up?”

You threw your backpack over your shoulder, walking toward the door with a little shrug and a smirk, “my hands.”

You exited with a giggle as he gawked. “Your hands are fucking icicles woman.” He muttered, gathering his stuff and hurrying after you.

* * *

The smell of gun powder and whiskey followed the giggling soldiers into their motel. Both collapsed on the scratchy floral duvet, cheeks rosy and the room spinning.

You let out a chuckle, unable to remember what caused you to laugh so hard you cried at the bar, but the giddiness flowing freely. “I guess the accommodations could be worse.”

“True, we could be back at the compound already.”

Laughter filled the room again.

You attempted to catch your breath as a neighbor banged on the wall at their volume. You sat up, still chuckling and really looked around the motel room. the peeling wallpaper, stained carpet, and broken mirror, the single bed that was currently being overtaken by the large man beside you. The large, tipsy man that was halfway to sleep.

“Buck. Bucky.”

“Just five more minutes… Maybe six…”

You chuckled again, “Bucket?”

You reach forward to shake him when he grabbed your hand from the air.

“Don’t you dare inflict those ice cubes on me again.”

You chuckled, “my husband used to hate how cold my fingers were too.”

Bucky cleared his throat, sobering quickly and sitting up. “Did you call me Bucket?”

You smirked, “I’m getting ready for bed.”

“Well, where are you gonna sleep?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” you chirped as the bathroom door closed behind you.

Minutes later you climbed into the bed, kicking the soldier that hadn’t moved. “Hurry and come to bed. I’m cold.”

He chuckled, finally standing and taking his turn in the bathroom.

Why was he freaking out? You’d shared a bed for so long he couldn’t remember not having you there when he woke up. Sure that has started out of necessity, but was it still that way? Did you still need him to be there? A presence you craved to fill the spot someone else had previously inhabited?

Bucky sighed, splashing some water on his face. Necessity or not, he couldn’t sleep unless you were there. The calming sunshine for his storming mind.

He pushed his feeling aside and walked back into the main room, seeing you halfway sleep already. He pulled the covers back and climbed in, the light going out soon after.

You shuffled closer to him like you did every night.

“Get your cold feet off of me”

You giggled softly and rolled over before falling completely asleep.


	7. La Vie En Rose

_Hold me close and hold me fast  
This magic spell you cast  
This is la vie en rose_

The song floated through the apartment, barely audible to anyone. The walls themselves seemed to sing to the couple still tucked in bed.

Bucky pulled you closer, tucking you under his arm even more. Your deep, sleepy sighs accompanying the soft guitar. He smiled and placed a kiss on the crown of your head, humming along with the song. One of his favorites since you’d introduced him to it.

He remembered how confused he’d been when you found out he hadn’t heard it before. You immediately played the original recording for him, but he fell in love with the cover you played on repeat for weeks. 

He was pulled out of his dear memories by the feeling of your fingers slowly dragging nonsensical patterns on his chest. You sat up to face him, studying his features in the golden morning sunlight. “Morning,” you rasp.

He chuckles, leaning forward to capture your lips with his, turning you onto your back. “Mornin’, darlin’.” He kisses your cheek and hovers above you, his flesh thumb stroking your cheek.

When you kiss me heaven sighs  
And though I close my eyes  
I see la vie en rose

You tangled your fingers in his long locks, pulling him closer. He moaned into your mouth as you smiled at the noises you knew how to extract. He pinched your side causing you to yelp. “That’s what you get smart ass.”

You pushed with all your weight, now straddling him. He moaned as you wiggled your hips suggestively above him, leaning forward on your elbows, your turn to hover over your lover. “Don’t complain. I know you love it.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, chuckling, “I love you.”

“Same thing,” you muttered, slanting your mouth over his. 

He growled as his tongue met yours and your hips lowered, the friction easing the building tension in your stomach. 

_When you press me to your heart  
I’m in a world apart  
A world where roses bloom  
And when you speak  
Angels sing from above  
Everyday words seem  
To turn into love songs_

The afternoon sun took its turn to warm the room. Bucky’s fingers trailing along your naked back. Goosebumps rising in their wake and shivers traveling along your spine. 

You smiled at the juxtaposed feelings of sunshine and vibranium. It couldn’t sum up the man you loved any better. You smiled and started to hum, picking up the song where Bucky had left it hours ago.

_Give your heart and soul to me  
And life will always be la vie en rose_


	8. Focus

“Chin up Bucket. I promise this is going to be more fun for you than for me.”

Bucky scoffed at the declaration. “Yeah, I get to watch you live out your biggest fantasy with too many other men also watching.”

You rolled your eyes, rolling the pantyhose up your legs and attaching the garter clips. You listened to him pace the bedroom from behind the bathroom door. He was being dramatic. You fluffed your hair once more, pulled on your long jacket and made your way into the room.

The sunset filtered through the gauzy curtains, sending a lazy haze over the bedroom. Bucky stopped digging his sorrowful trench, taken aback with your look. The wig you’d been given was styled into perfect pin curls, a perfect cat eye adorned heavily lashed eyes to make a dramatic compliment to the sinful red of your lips.

“Cat got ya tongue, Sarge?”

Bucky blushed, “No, a minx.”

You smirked at his cheekiness, “Well, Fury will have our hides if we’re late.”

Bucky nodded, gathering the few things he would need. You watched him place the small knife in his boot, the two in his belt and holster his gun at his back to be hidden under the black jacket he was given. “I see you’re packing light tonight.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and walked toward the door, holding it open for you, a small smirk in place. “Ma’am.”

* * *

Bucky watched the doorways carefully, watching for the mark, or really anyone suspicious. While they knew where, approximately when, and what was going to happen (information passed between bad guys, utmost national security, arms dealings, blah, blah, blah), they didn’t know who to be looking out for. This made Bucky the best lookout. Well, Fury originally only wanted to send the best, but when you had casually let the details of your cover out to Bucky he had insisted to come.

Door duty. Fury had finally agreed and he got stuck on door duty.

You had giggled at the grumpy face he’d made. He did not find it quite as amusing, but you made it up to him.

 _Focus_.

The tables were all filled, literally. How anyone could fit any more than two drinks and the tiny tea light centerpiece on those tables was beyond Bucky. The lights dimmed and Bucky’s back straightened, the reassuring pressure of the gun digging into his spine not easing any anxiety.

The tones of trombones and trumpets stirred up the rest of the band and the curtains to rise. Your silhouette on display from the spotlight behind you. The spotlight shifted and the audience cheered loudly as you came into view. You saluted the audience, throwing a wink in Bucky’s direction, earning you several whistles from the crowd.

You slowly unzipped the stylized jumpsuit, letting it fall off your shoulders and pool on the ground. With a smirk, you turned and stepped out fully revealing the costume you wore. Bucky chuckled to himself, Steve would lose his shit if he could see you right now.

The red and white skirt brushing against the tops of your thighs, the lights glinting off the garter clips you wore. The blue halter, white gloves, and pin curls completed the USO girl look, but the wicked gleam in your eye set it apart. No one would mistake you for one of the Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan’s chorus girls.

Sauntering across the stage, Bucky’s eyes watching as you place the helmet on a member of the band as he plays, with a playful kiss on his cheek, red lips marking him. The cheers filled the room, only encouraging you. You rolled your gloves down your arms, fluttering your eyes innocently, but quickly discarding the fabric off stage.

Bucky groaned as you strut towards the edge of the stage. Turning you revealed your bare back and unclasped the neckline. Without turning you threw an innocent look over your shoulder and threw the top toward the growing pile of discarded clothing. Bucky cleared his throat, your skirt now taunting him and the rest of the crowd.

You turned your hands covering your breasts, acting shocked to still be in a room full of strangers. The cheers were deafening as you walked down the stairs of the stage and into the crowd, revealing the red, white, and blue tassels. Your hands trailing lightly along men’s shoulders as you worked your way through the crowd. You stopped in front of Bucky, a smirk on your face. You tugged the front of his shirt down, pulling him to be breaths away from your lips. Catcalls and applause egged you on. Bucky’s pupils were blown wide as you lean in and kiss him on the cheek.

“You better watch yourself, doll.”

You chuckled, your breath tickling his ear. He fought a shudder that tried to worm its way down his spine.

“It looks like I’m not the one that’s getting carried away.”

Bucky growled as you pulled away with a wink. He was ready for this mission to be over.

Right. He was on a mission. _Focus_.

He surveyed the room again, looking for anyone that seemed out of place. Which served as a problem. Every eye was focused on you, watching you sink onto a woman’s lap, crossing your ankles.

Bucky growled again, shifting his weight, ready to finish this mission, throw his coat over you and take you home.

The song reached its climax as you reached into your hair and pulled out a decorative pin, placing it in the woman’s hair with a coy smile. You slowly stood and took the stage again. The band letting loose as the lights went out again, leaving you in silhouette as you removed the skirt before complete darkness filled the bar.

Applause and whistles filled the space. Bucky walked backstage as the lights rose again.

“Well, that was… something else.”

“Good, that’s what I was going for. I’ve been practicing with Nat, she masqueraded once as a dancer at the Moulin Rouge.”

Bucky just hummed as your voice rose from behind the changing screen, “too bad we missed the target.”

You emerged from behind the screen, tac gear in place. You checked your weapons, full magazine, knives sharpened, lipstick perfect. “We didn’t miss her.”

“Her?”

“Well maybe you were a little distracted, but I pinned her, literally.” You chuckled at your joke.

“She’s taking us right to them.” You held up your phone, a little spot pinging and moving across the screen. “If we leave now we might be able to intercept them.”

Bucky chuckled, holding the door open for you, “God, I love you.”

You smacked his butt and walked out the door, calling out over your shoulder, “let’s finish this at home.”


	9. And Counting

You and Bucky are the ultimate power couple on missions.

You’ve mastered the art of fighting back to back, and you’re so in tune with the other’s movements that you may as well be one person.

It’s not uncommon for you to swap weapons during the fight; you’ll feel your gun being taken from your belt at the same time as you sneak one of Bucky’s knives from his boot, both of you knowing that you’ll swap back later.

Contrary to popular belief, you’re not actually very protective over each other.  
You both know the other’s capabilities, and know that it’s better not to try and play the hero by sacrificing yourself.

You do, however, have a competition going on how many times you’ve saved each other’s asses.

After missions, you patch each other up on the Quinjet, smirking to each other and giving the count.

This was supposed to be like every other time. _Supposed to be_.

“Why’d you throw it at him?”

You felt Bucky sigh at your back. “Well someone used the rest of the magazine in that gun, threw the knives that are currently stuck in that wall right there, and discarded the other empty rifles around the warehouse. I think I was out of options. So yeah, throwing that gun at his stupid face felt like my last option.” He groaned as a kick landed itself in his side.

You chuckled, wincing as your lip split open again.

“Serves you right.”

“Sir, can you kick him again? It seems he didn’t get the message the first time.” It was your turn to earn a kick in the side, the goon grunting a ‘shut up’ with the blow. Your vision blurred black on the edges. You sucked in a breath and fell to your side, gasping.

Bucky turned to face you, “Love? Doll?” His eyes were wide with terror as he watched you try and breathe deeply.

“‘M fine, ‘m fine,” you gasped, your back still facing him. You tried to will the tears the fell down your cheeks back where they came from. You knew there was no hiding the shuddering breaths as you listened to the threats that he spat towards your captors.

“Buck, it’s fine.”

His words halted in his throat. Throwing his scariest Winter Soldier glare at the men pacing in front of him he turned to watch you. He chuckled at the way you wiggled, worming your way back into a sitting position, “I’m sorry, is something amusing to you darling,” you wheezed.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Well, we’ll see who is laughing harder when I get us both out of here, breaking the ‘saved-your-ass’ tie, and you are paying for dinner.”

“Shut up,” the goonie yelled. He pulled his gun from the holster, pointing it at Bucky’s head.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” you tutted.

Bucky chuckled, the click of the safety being turned off bouncing through the concrete echos, only causing Bucky to roll his eyes. He sighed, feeling your fingers graze his wrist, “finally.”

The idiot still pointing his gun at Bucky’s temple, fell backward, his legs swept out from under him. The gun went off as it, and his body hit the ground. Bucky rolled his shoulders back, working out the stiffness. He toed the gunman, rolling him onto his side satisfied with the amount of unconsciousness that seemed to have taken him over. He reached over and grabbed the gun, holstering it with a smirk in your direction.

“Great, now this idiot’s idiot friends are gonna storm in here. You couldn’t have done that any quieter.”

He laughed, kneeling down next to you, “you’re welcome, babe.” He kissed the crown of your head. With a grunt, he pulled you up to stand.

“Than-,” your words were cut off as he hoisted you over his shoulder. “Really?”

You felt his shoulders shake, a small smile of your own forming. “I think I quite like you like this, tied up, mine for the rescue, paying for dinner tonight.”

You huffed at his response. Your head bounced with every step he took, knocking into his belt a couple times, and that was it, he was buying his own meal tonight and eating alone, you were going by yourself to the nicest restaurant and getting the tastiest thing and he could have take-out in the living room.

Bucky wandered the room, gathering the stray weapons from around the room, a symphony of footsteps and yelling coming closer. He watched the shadows stretch across the floor and windows, guns positioned toward them. He sighed as you continued to squirm, “will ya quit your wrigglin’?”

“Not until you put me down and let me open the can of whoop-ass I’ve been keeping in storage to serve at the right time.”

He put you down, catching you as you swayed, all the extra blood draining from your face. He chuckled, cutting the ties at your wrist. You rubbed where the zips and nearly broken the skin. “Thank you,” you said leaning in to kiss his cheek. You pulled the Glock he’d acquired from Mr. Unconscious from the holster. “Alright, can we wrap this up? I’m ready for dinner.”

“Anything for you, doll.”

You approached the door holding the handle, watching Bucky get a quick count of how many mafia members they might be about to encounter. He gave you a small nod and you wrenched the door open, three men falling on top of each other and through the doorway. You rolled your eyes and followed Bucky into the fray.

It didn’t take long before the pair of you found the boss and had him cowering in his office. A couple zip ties, and a quick call to Sam to finish up here with the local authorities, later you stumbled through your own doorframe, nearly tripping over your own feet. Exhaustion and hunger biting at your heels.

The crinkling of a paper bag came from behind you as Bucky got plates and plated the Chinese take out you’d acquired on the way back. You turned on the t.v. skipping through the news, catching snippets of how the rising mob had been taken down by the Avengers until finally settling on some 90’s show rerun that would go all night. Bucky sat next to you, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth. He handed you a plate and no other words were said until you both laid back, stomachs full and eyelids half open.

“I think tonight puts me in the lead.”

You shot up, all thoughts of sleep forgotten, “excuse me?”

Bucky laughed as he stood, turning off the show and throwing the boxes away, leaving the dishes for tomorrow.

“We’re still even,” you said, closing the bathroom door behind you and starting the shower.

The bathroom was filled with steam when the door opened again, “I can see why you would think that, doll, but I did most of the heavy lifting.” He listened to your scoff as he climbed in behind you, “though I could be swayed to the tie if you give me some damn good evidence.”

You chuckled, giving him a deep kiss and taking a step back. He growled as the water hit him in the face, your laughter echoing off the tiled walls.


	10. Kiss of Life

“Clear!”

“You don’t have to be so loud Bucket, it’s only you and me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the nickname, pushing through into the next room, eyes aimed down the scope. “Just want to make sure you hear, darling.”

Your eyes scanned the room, staying close to Bucky, “You’re the hundred-year-old man, maybe we should get your hearing checked.”

He chuckled, throwing the door open. You jumped forward aiming your gun as you cleared the doorway. He stepped into your back, his chest pressed tight to you. You turned your head, “Clear,” you whispered as you placed a kiss on his cheek. You winked at him as you stepped further into the room.

It was completely empty, save for the blinding white door stood opened opposite you.

You holster your gun and walk toward the room. You were about to step into the completely white room when Bucky’s hand stopped you. “Doll, what do you think you are doing?”

“We’re here to gather intel right?” Bucky nodded. “So, I’m going to go gather intel.”

His grip tightened on her arm, “I don’t like this.”

You huffed and turned, so you were fully facing him. You put both of your hands on either side of his face, “Bucky, it’ll be ok.”

“He sighed, “At least let me go first,” he placed a kiss on your forehead after you nodded.

He stepped back, lifting his gun to his eye again. He stepped into the room, his eyes squinting in the harsh light. He’d made it to the middle of the room, turning to gesture for you to enter, when a door slid closed.

Bucky dropped his gun and ran to the door, trying to pull it open. His eyes widened in panic as he watched you look for another opening through the small observation window. He circled the room, fingers pressed against every corner, finding the room air tight.

He looked at you again, your panic starting to show. You banged your fist against the glass, not even leaving a crack. He put his hand on the glass, mouthing words, hoping to calm you down. Tears ran down your face as you watched him.

A slight hissing sound pierced through the silence. Bucky turns, trying to find the source, but sees nothing. Suddenly his eyes roll back and he collapses to the floor.

You scream as he drops out of sight. Steve has been yelling in your ear through the coms. “What the hell is going on? Y/N!”

“Steve, Bucky…he’s…he’s…I don’t know what’s happened, Steve.”

“I’m on my way.”

The door slid open again and you rushed in. Bucky was convulsing slightly on his side. You pulled him onto his back, brushing the hair out of his face and holding his head. His body slowly stops moving. He slowly opens his eyes.

“Buck? Bucky? Are you ok? How are you feeling?” You help him to his feet, where he steadies himself. “Love?” You placed your hands on either side of his face, searching his eyes. They lacked the warmth they usually held when he looked at you, lacked love and the spark of life he had worked hard to get back.

“Bucky?”

His hands came up and pulled your hands away before kicking her square in the chest. You flew across the room, hitting a white wall hard. The breath was knocked out of you and you fell to your knees.

You were left with no time to recover as he stalked toward you. He led with his left arm throwing jabs and hooks. You blocked them as best you could, not trying to hurt him. You circled each other around the small room. His eyes flickered down to the discarded gun on the floor.

With a sigh and hesitation, you stepped toward the soldier. You kicked him in the side, satisfied with the grunt that you heard and the hesitation you felt as he recalculated how to handle you now that you were fighting back.

Your knee hit him in the spot he had hit you earlier. He stumbled back, throwing his arm out. You dropped to the floor on a knee. Throwing your own punch you hit him in the groin. “I’m sorry, babe, but I’m doing this because I love you.”

He took a deep breath and reached out for your shoulder, you moved and threw an elbow in his face, wincing when you heard the crack of his nose breaking. He grabbed your elbow and reached around you, grabbing the gun you had forgotten about.

He pushed you away from him as he took aim.

You froze.

Tears streaming down your face.

The gun cocked and you closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable end.

It never came.

Bucky’s arm dropped to his side. Grip going slack and the gun dropping to the ground.

His eyes rolled back. His body drops to the ground again body convulsing much more violently this time. You dropped to your knees, holding his head again. You winced at the blood that covered his face now. You kissed his forehead as his convulsing came to a stop.

You waited, watching his face. His eyes didn’t open and his chest didn’t rise. “Bucky?”

He didn’t move. His chest still refusing to rise. “Bucket? Bucky?” You shifted to your knees, shaking him. “James? Please don’t do this.”

You started doing compressions. Your sobs filled the room, only stopping when you leaned over to fill his lungs with air. You lost track of how long you were doing it, but arms wrapped around you and pulled you away from Bucky.

You screamed and pushed against Steve’s arms as he pulled you toward the quintet.

Bucky’s body was lifted into the quinjet, a medic doing what he could.

You turned your head into Steve’s neck, sobbing.


	11. No Light, No Light

“Buck? Bucket?”

The beeping of the machine was your only response. Your eyes still stung and your throat still raw from screaming.

You’d filled the jet with sobs. This would be your curse. Hydra had cursed you all those years ago and now, even with them gone, their presence still lingered. 

The doctor had come in several times, often checking his vitals, everything was normal. His eyes would stare blankly back into the light, his pupils responding as they should, but still, he slept. 

Steve had come in so many times you’d lost count. At this point he’d developed a routine: ask the doctor if anything had changed, nod solemnly at the answer and sit with you for a while. The time spent with you varied but his presence was always marked with a peanut butter sandwich for you to eat later on top of the many days worth that had piled up on the nightstand. 

The sunlight filtered in, waking you from the uneasy sleep you had managed. You squinted, turning away from the harsh light. 

“My turn.” 

You jumped, startled, but recovering with your pistol in hand and aiming at the voice. 

Sam sighed, pushing the gun away from his chest. “You’re gonna kill someone with that thing.”

You grunted, putting the weapon down on the chair. “That would be the idea, yes. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so useless.”

“I know.”


	12. Endgame

A familiar voice came through the comms. A voice you missed but never thought you’d hear again. You heard Steve’s relieved sigh beside you. Sunlight seemed to warm your back and bathe Steve in the warmth half the population had been denied for five years. Portals formed and released floodgates of familiar faces, faces that had been dearly missed. You eagerly searched for the pair of eyes that were your drive to end this fight.

Your frantic searching was ended with a grunt behind you.

Steve tightened the shield he carried, the symbol, the hope, the exhaustion and with two words the massive fray sprinted into battle. Your heart plummeted as you picked up the pace to meet the oncoming army, still missing your blue-eyed soldier. You had watched him disappear like the others, but maybe his time was up, he’d used all his chances to avoid the grim reaper’s grasp. You shake the tears out of your eyes, meeting members of the Black Order on the destroyed grounds of your home.

—

He watched you. He didn’t know how long he’d been gone, but he could tell from the way you fought, moved, it had been too long. He followed your movements, frozen.

You parried and moved around with a fury never seen before.

Bucky was yanked from his longing by a force that knocked him on his ass. He swore under his breath as he fought off the monster above him. The creature finally fell to the side, and he wiped the spit from his face, sitting up. He checked for his personal arsenal, everything still there from when he watched Steve’s face disappear and your voice called out his name.

He picks up a discarded gun or two (the raccoon probably lost them if he’s somewhere in this mess). He raced toward the fight, the thousand-yard stare he’d acquired during his years as the Winter Soldier. He cataloged everything he could see on the battlefield. Tony, Steve, Thor, taking on the figure that was behind all of this hurt and destruction.

He sees it in the corner of his eye. You move, too far away for him to help you, but close enough his heart slows its anxious beating. You turn, tears flooding your eyes when you finally drown in the depths you’ve missed. He nods, as the call for back up for the Spider-kid comes, you smile taking off, following Pepper and the other women to get the gauntlet, the stones back to where they should be.

He turns taking off toward Steve, instincts to protect his second-favorite dumbass kicking in.

It’s not much longer before an explosion sounds behind him. The sounds of fighting stopped as everyone turned to see him there. Thanos. He approached Tony, the gauntlet on, a sense of deja vu settling on everyone.

“I am inevitable.”

It seemed the whole world took a breath. Holding it as the metallic sound echoed through the battlefield.

“And I,” Tony sighed, “am Iron Man.”

The world released its breath.

Gunfire ceased. The dust settled. Cries filled the stifling silence.

Bucky searched for you. People approached him: Sam, Clint, Steve. A certain red-head seemed to be missing, but he pushed that to the back of his mind when the one voice he needed rose above the reunions happening around him.

“Bucky!”

He turned to the voice. You sprinted toward him, tear tracks having cleaned their way down your cheeks. Once again, he is frozen to his spot, his heart stopping. He opened his arms just before you crashed into them. He stumbled back, the force of your collision making him need to steady himself. He pulls you closer when your shoulders started to shake, your nose burying into his shoulder. You still couldn’t believe he was here.

This had been a moment you dreamed about countless times. This was better. You knew you wouldn’t wake up reaching for the body heat that had been missing.

He couldn’t breathe. Your hands jumped from his hair to his face, remembering every inch that you could touch.

“You’re alive,” you whispered.

“I’m here,” he takes a shuddering breath, “I’m here.” His fingers grasp at you, trying to pull you impossibly closer.

You pepper kisses on his face. His cheeks, forehead, temples, jaw, eyelids, nose. You paused, a breath between you. Your eyes met, breath mixing together.

Finally, you crash your lips into his.

“I’m sorry,” another kiss, “I’m sorry, doll.”

He sets you down, your hands continued to roam his face. He studied your face, lines deeper than before. Dark circles around your eyes darker than ever before, however long he’d been gone every second had embedded itself into your skin and posture. “I’m sorry,” he mutters again.

“For what?”

He sighs, taking your hands in his own. “For being gone.”

You pulled away, chuckling quietly, the first time in years. “You’re back here with me, Buck,” you pressed one palm against his cheek, “that’s the best apology the universe could ever give for taking you from me.”

You wiped a single tear from his face as he bent to capture your lips again.

“I think this puts me in the lead again,” you said, Bucky chuckling against your lips. 

**Author's Note:**

> This has been written out of order and published as I add to it. I'm sorry for the confusion, but if you are reading this chapter by chapter it is in the order it is meant to be read in. Sorry for any confusion.


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